


The Last Goa'uld on Earth

by dividedbetween



Category: Stargate - All Series, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:45:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9485561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dividedbetween/pseuds/dividedbetween
Summary: The clone of Jack O'Neill created by Loki is in trouble! Or he is trouble. [Chapter 8! YES IT'S TRUE I'M ALIVE]





	1. Your House

 

Sam didn’t hear the doorbell the first time it rang. To be more truthful, she hoped she didn’t hear it. The room was filled with pale, early morning light. Too early. The doorbell rang again.

“Samantha,” Jack said, his face still pressed into the pillow, the first half of her name almost inaudible as he found his voice. She was too still, pretending to be asleep. “Samantha.” He said it louder. The doorbell rang again. 

“It’s your house,” Sam mumbled, turning over and sighing. She squinted over her pillow to see him looking at her incredulously.

“You’ve lived here for 10 years,” Jack said drily. “And I’m pretty sure you’ve replaced every single piece of furniture.” 

“Your name’s on the deed.” Sam replied, snuggling deeper into bed to emphasize her point. The doorbell rang again, twice in a row.

“You want your name on the deed to the house?” Jack asked. Sam could hear the uncertainty in his voice, so she tried to keep her own tone light when she replied. 

“No, I want you to answer the door so I can stay in bed.” Sam turned over and saw the clock before she closed her eyes. 4:45 AM. 

“What if I need back-up?” Jack was already sitting up, pulling on pants and and grabbing his sweatshirt. “They could be robbers, or murderers. Up to no-good.” It was Sam’s turn to roll her eyes, the doorbell now going off without break. 

“Because murderers are so polite about coming into people’s homes uninvited.” Jack stared at her for a moment before tilting his head to one side in acknowledgement. 

“Fair point,” he threw back at her as he turned and left. Sam lay there for a moment, now completely awake, and unable to stop thinking about what a good idea it would be to ring the doorbell if you wanted to separate the targets.  _ Goddamnit,  _ she thought as she swung her legs out of bed and jogged out of the bedroom, reaching to grab a baseball bat leaning against the dresser as she left. 

 

When she got to the top of the stairs, Jack was standing at the front door. On the other side was a girl, a little taller than average, with copper colored ringlets around her worried face. As Sam descended more of the girl came into view and there was a file of some kind clutched in her hands. She was looking at Jack pleadingly but Sam drew her eyes away for a moment. Sam wanted to help her the minute they locked eyes. 

“Looking for a game there, slugger?” Jack quipped, the confusion and concern on his face melting into amusement when he saw the bat in Sam’s hand. 

“Oh, uh. No, I mean, I didn’t know who it was, so,” Sam had never really been very good at covering in the moment. 

“This--” Jack stated clearly, saving her from herself, “is Linda. Linda is married to Jonathan.” Jack gestured in a ta-da sort of way. 

“Jonathan...” Sam offered blankly. Jack sighed and ran his hand over his face. 

“You know, Jonathan, the other...” 

“The other what?” 

“Remember Loki?” Jack’s voice was taking on an irritable tone. 

“Oh,” Sam said quietly, while everything was still clicking. “OH. Oh. Wow. Oh.” Linda pressed forward past Jack towards Sam.

“Look I know this is weird and against protocol or whatever but I really need your help. Johnny needs your help, he’s missing!” She had reached out for Sam and Sam had instinctively taken her hand. They were cold from the morning air. 

“Okay, it’s okay,” Sam said pulling her towards the living room. “Let’s just talk about it.” 

“Johnny?” Jack muttered derisively, as he swung the door closed and followed them over to the couch. Sam shot him a look and then settled Linda down on the couch. 

“Just tell us what’s going on,” Sam said. Linda stared at her own hands and breathed deep before beginning. 

“Johnny is a commercial fisherman, it’s not that unusual for him to be gone for weeks or months at a time, but he said he was coming home three days ago. I called the captain and he said that Johnny had gotten off at the last port, which was almost two weeks ago.” 

“Okay...” Jack drew out the word. “So why not call the cops? Or the Air Force for that matter?”

“I’ve tried, of course I’ve called them but they say that he’s not missing, that there’s no sign of foul play and I should just wait and see if he comes home. I know something has happened to him, I can just feel it, do you know what I mean?” The first part of Linda’s speech had been an accusation, hurled at Jack, but this question she turned to direct at Sam. Sam thought of all the bad feelings she had over the years, all the times she had tried to untangle Jolinar’s memories from her military training from her scientific understanding from what she hoped was finally her own intuition. It had been a long time since she had known what it meant to feel something and be so sure. She looked at Jack and thought about him stranded on a moon with Maybourne. 

“I think I might know. But we’re not cops or private detectives, why come to us?” 

“Yes, and why so early, pray tell?” Jack stretched when he said this. 

“This has something to do with, you know.” Linda leaned forward conspiratorially, dropping her voice to a whisper. 

“Know what?” Jack whispered back, in false confusion. 

“The Stargate.” Linda said, looking around like men in black suits might jump out at any moment. Sam glanced at Jack and she saw annoyance and worry flash in his eyes before he leaned back into the couch as though they had been talking about the weather. 

“What’s a Star-Gate?” Jack asked, separating the words as though he’d never heard them used together before. 

“Look, I know all about the Stargate and other planets and the Goa’u-” Linda was cut short by Sam’s hand, which she held up to stop her. 

“Whatever Jonathan may have told you, whether or not it’s true, he told you in direct violation of several secrecy acts.” Sam moved so her eyes met Linda’s. “You understand? He could be in serious trouble--”

“That’s what I’m telling you! He is in serious trouble already! And I don’t care about any secrecy whatevers, I know that this has something to do with all of that alien stuff!” Linda was getting louder, and more insistent.

“And just how do you know that?” Jack said, with the air of someone listening to their crazy uncle talk about chemtrails. 

“Because of this,” Linda said, drawing something out of the file. It was a fine gold chain, which held a small red crystal. Sam looked to her for permission, and at Linda’s nod she brought the crystal closer to her face. It was much smaller than she had ever seen, but it was unmistakably a memory crystal like those she had seen Goa’uld use to store data. She closed her fist around it. 

“Where did you get this, Linda?” Sam’s tone was stern. 

“It was sent to me yesterday. Along with this.” Linda pulled a piece of paper out from the file. It was standard notebook paper, but the writing on it was unmistakably Goa’uld. The ink was purple. And sparkly. 

“Well, this is different.” Jack said. 


	2. Coincidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pls let me know if you would like to beta for me because I am not editing these at all and I'm pretty sure it shows but I also don't want to so it's a real conundrum.

 

A few minutes later, Sam was leaning against the kitchen counter watching Jack make coffee. She ducked her head under the cabinets to see where Linda was absentmindedly pulling one of her curls. 

“What do you think?” Sam whispered, still watching Linda. 

“They’re probably still good, “ Jack whispered back. Sam’s forehead wrinkled and she turned to see Jack holding the filter with yesterday’s grounds in it. 

“Ugh,” she said, and moved to take over for him. Jack smiled in his victory and walked over to where the paper Linda had brought them was sitting on the counter. Sam glanced back and asked her question again. “What do you think?”

“I think there’s a Goa’uld middle school somewhere we don’t know about,” Jack quipped. 

“Ha ha,” Sam said drily, snapping the coffee maker closed and turning around to see Jack holding his phone above the paper. “Are you taking a picture?” she accused. 

“I’m sending it...” Jack paused while he tapped fruitlessly on the screen. “...to Daniel,” he pulled the phone back and looked at it, his face falling in disappointment.

“Very secure,” said Sam sarcastically, taking the phone, snapping the photo and sending it off to Daniel. The stood there in silence for a moment, listening to the gurgling of the coffee maker and the birds outside the window.  

“We should call Mitchell,” Jack stated, as though to no one in particular.  

“If you think so,” Sam was holding the paper up to the light, looking for she wasn’t sure what. 

“It’s protocol,” Jack said weakly. Sam looked down from the paper and right at Jack. 

“Because protocol has always mattered so much to you before,” she said, tilting the paper until it was level with her eyes and she could look down it. 

“Maybe we wait until we know more,” Jack conceded. Sam brought the paper closer to her face and sniffed. “Come on!” Jack said, loudly enough to startle Sam out of her scientific reverie. 

“What?” she said, moving her shoulders in embarrassment. 

“What could you possibly hope to learn from smelling it?” Jack sounded angry but his eyes betrayed his amusement. 

“I don’t know! I don’t know what to look for when you get a MASH note from a Goa’uld, okay?” Sam put the paper down and sighed. “I guess we should go to their house, check it out.” 

“Yeah,” Jack agreed, but in a way that made Sam sure he didn’t. 

“Look if this is too weird or--” Sam moved closer.

“No, it’s fine,” Jack snapped in a dismissive tone Sam had come to recognize. 

“If it’s too weird,” Sam repeated, putting her arms around his waist. “Or you don’t think it’s the right thing, we pass it off to Cam. He’s perfectly capable.” Jack rested his head against hers and she closed her eyes.  

“We tell the Air Force and it could be out of Mitchell’s hands,” Jack said. “Taking care of it, at least for awhile, is the right thing to do.” Sam smiled up at him.

“I know,” she said brightly. The coffee maker clicked and Jack pushed her forward so he could grab some mugs. 

 

Half an hour later Sam drove herself, Linda and Jack up to Linda’s house, which sat on a busy road in the city. Grass pushed up past broken stone and gravel, and Sam picked her way around puddles to get to the front door. While Linda was fishing for her keys Sam turned around and saw Jack still on the sidewalk, looking out across the street. 

“What?” she called. Jack turned around and jogged across the yard, splashing right through the puddles she had avoided. 

“That look odd to you?” Jack asked, gesturing back with his head as he cleaned his sunglasses. Sam looked past him to the house across the busy road, which in a sea of unkempt lawns and cars on blocks, was perfectly manicured. Neat rows of bushes lined the smooth stone walkway. There was even a white fence along the sidewalk. 

“Hm,” Sam agreed with a shrug. Linda unlocked the door and held a screen door open for them as they walked inside. Sam was surprised once her eyes had adjusted to the light. For all the exterior disrepair, the inside of the house was perfectly neat and well kept. It looked like every piece of furniture in the place was handmade, and the same fabric hung in front of the windows as covered a chair in the corner. 

“I’m not sure what you want to see,” Linda said, gesturing around to the house. “But you’re welcome to look at whatever you want.” Linda walked over to a landline and glanced at the screen, clearly looking for any missed calls. Her face fell. “Had to check,” she said quietly. Jack started down the narrow hallway and Sam stopped next to Linda for a moment, rubbing her hand on her back. 

“Which one is the bathroom?” Sam asked. Linda pointed at a door on the left. “Maybe we could get some tea?” Linda nodded and moved to the kitchen. Sam took the opportunity to go into the bathroom and rifle through the medicine cabinet without interruption. There was nothing in there but some ibuprofen and a box of bandaids. 

“Sam,” Jack called from across the hall, quietly. Sam glanced back at Linda,  who was still worrying over a kettle, and moved into what must be their bedroom. Jack was holding a black book, shaking his head. Sam took the book from him and saw it was a journal, and it was filled with sketches of the Stargate, Ancient symbols, and recounts of their earliest journeys off world. She sat down on the bed, thumbing through the pages. 

“It must have been hard,” Sam said. “Leaving all of that behind.” Jack made a dismissive motion. 

“That was the deal. He should have known better than to leave something like this laying around.” 

“Yeah but--” Sam stopped short. “Jack, look at this.” Jack sat next to her and looked at what was unmistakably a stake-out log. 

“I didn’t think fisherman got a lot of call to go on stake-outs.” Jack took it from her and read some of the entries aloud. “1346. Subject leaves home and drives down Delancey. 1401. Subject arrives at Westwood Mall. 1407. Subject enters Barnes & No--why would anyone want to follow this guy?” Sam took the book back and stared down at the meticulous notes. 

“Jack, I think we have to prepare ourselves for the possibility that Jonathan is, you know--”

“Cracked?” Jack said before shooting to his feet. “Linda, look--” Linda was standing at the door to the bedroom, her face red and angry. 

“This is why I came to you, I thought I could trust you and you’d believe me--” Her words were cut short by sobs. Jack moved forward and wrapped her in his arms. 

“We do. Or at least, we’re gonna figure out exactly what’s going on,” Sam said, walking over and smoothing her hair. Linda made a noise that sounded like assent but continued to sob into Jack’s chest. A light ping sounded from his pocket. Sam reached around Linda and retrieved Jack’s phone, where a new text had come in. It was from Daniel. 

 

Daniel: *Huh. That’s a coincidence.* 

  
Underneath the text was a picture, of what looked like ruins they had encountered on any number of planets. There was Goa’uld writing, and even Sam’s relatively untrained eye could see it was exactly the same as what was written on the paper Linda had given them. 


	3. A Cup of Sugar

“I’m gonna stay here,” Jack said, pausing at the front door. Daniel had texted that he was on base, and that he would come out and meet them at a coffee shop downtown. Linda had insisted on going, and Jack wanted the opportunity to check out the house without her underfoot.

“Do you think there’s anything else to find?” Sam asked. 

“Probably not,” Jack sighed. “But there’s something else going on here. And it beats listening to Daniel talk about...whatever it is he talks about.” Sam gave a little smile, but there was worry in her eyes. 

“There’s some beer in the fridge,” Linda’s voice came from behind Jack..

“It’s 7 AM, Linda,” Jack put his hand to his chest in feigned offense. Linda just smiled and pushed past to join Sam in the yard. 

“You’re different than Johnny, General, but not that different.” Sam tried to cover her own smile and ushered Linda to the car. Jack waved as they drove away and then walked back into the house and straight to the fridge. He grabbed a beer in one hand and a spindly kitchen chair in the other, elbowing his way through the screen door and to the lawn. 

 

Twenty minutes later, Jack wondered if he was doing anything other than lowering the property value of the block.  _ At least it’s a nice day for it _ , Jack thought, stretching one of his legs out and closing his eyes against the warmth of the rising sun. A slamming car door across the street snapped him upright. There in the driveway of the impeccable house was a just as impeccable car, and out stepped a man and woman, both in impeccable suits. Jack drained the beer and jogged out to the sidewalk, waving enthusiastically. 

“Howdy there neighbors!” he called. Both stopped and turned, their brows furrowed in confusion. Jack started looking up and down the street, waiting for a chance to run across. The woman abruptly turned and marched into the house. The man gave a weak wave and then followed her through the door. Jack finally got his opening and ran across. He slowed to a jog as he passed their car, glancing inside to see nothing. There wasn’t even change in the cup holder. He took both steps up to the front door at once and knocked smartly. 

“Sorry to bother you!” he yelled through the door. “I just wanted to know if you use a landscaper or if you do all this work your-” He fell silent as the woman opened the door quickly. 

“We take care of the lawn ourselves,” she said without feeling. “Working with your hands is very fulfilling.” 

“Yes,” Jack said, holding the s in a way that made it clear he was creeped out. “Hey, you don’t have a cup of sugar, do you? I was gonna make some pancakes and--”

“Sorry,” she cut him off. “We don’t cook much,” and with that she snapped the door shut.  _ Completely evil _ , Jack thought. He glanced around covertly and didn’t see any surveillance or security equipment. He walked back into their driveway, and then right past the car and around the side of the house. Ducking windows and looking for nosy neighbors, he stopped just short of walking into the backyard, if it could be called that. In contrast with the manicured lawn out front, the back was nothing more than a neat, even, patch of dirt. It looked soft, like it was dug up and covered recently, There wasn’t a blade of grass or weed in sight. The dirt went all the way from the fence to the sliding door at the back of the house. Jack glanced over at the door and moved at a crouch a little deeper into the dirt. He used his fingers to dig and didn’t get an inch in before he hit something. Moving the dirt aside he found something smooth, silver and metal. No matter how far he moved the dirt in any direction, it was the same. He was reaching into his pocket to grab his phone when he heard the click and felt the press of a gun barrel into the back of his head. 

“You should have asked someone else for the sugar,” the woman’s voice said. 

 

Meanwhile, Sam and Linda were watching Daniel drive away. Sam was happy to see her friend, but she was disappointed that he hadn’t been able to give them any more clarity. 

“He was not that helpful,” Linda said, before turning to Sam suddenly with a scared look on her face. “I mean, of course he was really smart and knew a lot I just -- “ Sam cut her off.

“You’re right. We aren’t any closer to finding Jonathan.” Daniel had told her the writing was gibberish, and that it looked like it was written by someone who didn’t really understand Goa’uld. He promised to do some more research, but it was going to be difficult without drawing attention from others on base. Sam wished she could contact Teal’c, but he wasn’t due to return from off-world until the weekend. She followed Linda to the car and got behind the wheel.  _ I wonder how Jack fared _ , she thought, before turning the engine over and pulling out of the parking lot. 


	4. A Basement, A Bunker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *thumbs up for more content in your eye-holes*

Jack woke up zip-tied behind the back and to the legs of a metal folding chair. He had been rendered unconscious by a sharp blow to the back of his head which was now aching, along with his bad knee and his bad shoulder and well, everything else. Twenty years ago he could have snapped the ties right off.  _ Twenty years ago,  _ he thought wryly,  _ chances are I wouldn’t even be on this damn planet.  _ He took a breath, let his training take over for the first time in a long time. 

The room was dark, but light streamed in from a partially open door across from him. It was warm and too bright and moved, like it was coming from an exposed light bulb on a chain.  The sharp, cool smell of dirt and cold air let him know he was in a basement. There was nothing that could help him get out of the chair, even if he knocked it over on purpose. 

“What are we going to do?” Jack heard the frenzied whisper from the other side of the door. It was the man. 

“Whatever we have to, Blake,” came the cold voice of the woman in return. 

“Whatever we--what are you  _ talking  _ about, Agnes? Are you like, a spy now? That’s what we are just super cool spies who keep random old dudes in our basement?!” Blake wasn’t even whispering anymore. It was silent for a moment before Agnes responded. 

“I’m just saying, you told me we had to get ready and I didn’t listen. I’m listening now.” 

“If we let him go, he’ll tell someone what he found,” Blake responded, his voice much more even. Jack decided it was time to join the party. 

“No I won’t!” He yelled in the direction of the door. It flew open and revealed the couple squished into a linen closet. 

“I’m not sure we can take your word for it,” Agnes said, walking towards the chair. Her shoes were off. They were still in their house. 

“Even if I did, pretty much everyone thinks I’m nuts so there’s really no harm in just letting me leave,” Jack shrugged. “Seriously, how does this end?” He dropped his voice conspiratorially and directed this at Blake, who had shoved his hands into his pockets sheepishly. “Are you gonna kill me? Because that’s going to bring a lot of trouble you don’t want.” 

“You’ve already brought trouble we don’t want,” Agnes stepped to block Blake from his line of vision. 

“And you realize I don’t actually know anything, right?” Jack retorted, starting to get a little irritated. 

“Why were you in our backyard?” Blake asked, stepping around Agnes. 

“I told you, I liked your landscaping. I wanted to take a look.” Jack saw something flash across Agnes’ face. She wasn’t certain he knew anything. He doubled down. “You have weird taste, but it’s not like it’s against the law.” Playing dumb. Something he was good at, at last. 

“Why are you so interested?” Agnes asked, her fingers now scrambling across her skirt nervously. 

“I’m buying the house across the street, I was just looking for ideas for when I move in,” Jack smiled weakly. “Gotta make a house a home and all.” Agnes looked at him like she was trying to see inside his skull. Blake grabbed her by the arm, pulling her a few steps away. 

“What if we just let him go? I mean, what are we really doing here, Aggie?” Blake had a hand on each of her arms, and Agnes brought her own up to cover them. 

“Okay,” she whispered. Blake sighed with visible relief. He moved towards Jack, pulling a knife out of his pocket. 

“Just,” he started, holding the knife in front of Jack. “Don’t tell anyone what you saw. There are..zoning issues.”

“Sure, no problem,” Jack said, leaning forward as much as he could so Blake could reach behind and cut the ties. Before he could a knocking came from upstairs. Agnes put her hand on Blake’s back to stop him. 

“What was that?” She asked. The knocking came again, more insistent this time. 

“It’s the front door,” Blake said. “Just ignore it, they’ll go away.”

“Yeah, and maybe they’ll come back later with friends,” Agnes snapped, grabbing the knife out of his hand and walking behind Jack. He stretched his neck to see her standing at the bottom of a staircase, motioning Blake up with the knife. “This better not have anything to do with you,” she said sternly, before following Blake up the stairs. Jack slumped back, as much as he could in his current situation, and hoped Carter had brought more than her keen mind. 

 

Linda and Sam were both frozen, standing in with the doors to the car open and staring at the kitchen chair and empty beer bottle. Sam glanced back at the house across the street, suddenly understanding why it was Jack wanted to stay. She stepped to the side, quickly, tactically, trying to see inside the big picture window at the front of the house. 

“Go check inside,” she snapped, now facing the street. 

“Okay...” Linda said slowly, closing her door and walking up the driveway.

“And stay inside when you get there,” Sam added, now reaching through the open passenger side door to grab a gun out of the glove compartment. 

“Wait, what are you--”

“Stay inside. Please,” Sam snapped the door closed as punctuation. “I’m just going to check something. I’ll be right back.” Linda nodded and Sam was off, jogging across the busy road and tucking her gun into the back of her pants. She walked up the driveway and to the front door, knocking once, then twice, then three times before the door opened a crack and revealed a young couple looking out suspiciously. 

“What are you guys doing here?” the woman asked.

“You guy--” Sam asked, turning around to see Linda with a small smile and a shrug.  _ Sorry, _ she mouthed at Sam, who just shook her head and turned back to the couple. 

“Look, I’m sorry to disturb you but I was wondering if you’ve seen a man around here?” Sam asked.

“No,” said the woman shortly. “And if you’ll excuse us--” She started to close the door but Sam stepped past the woman and into the house.

“No, you’ll have to excuse me,” Sam said. “I think you have something that belongs to me.” She turned around to find the woman holding a knife. Sam smiled and pulled her gun out. “I’d rather not fire it,” Sam said. “Technically I checked it out of the armory at a United States Air Force facility and forgot to return it, so it’d be a ton of paperwork.” 

“Look, we can be reasonable here,” the man said, stepping between the two women. “We know where your friend is.”

“Good,” Sam said. When no one moved, she motioned impatiently. “Lead the way!” 

“F-first put your gun down,” the man said. Sam laughed drily.

“I think not.”

“No, he’s right. We’ll put the weapons down, and then we’ll show you,” the woman said, after some nods from her partner. Sam sighed. She really didn’t want to shoot anyone in a suburb of Colorado Springs today. She walked over to a small basket that was holding several umbrellas and a golf club and dropped the gun inside. The woman closed the knife and tossed it up the staircase behind her. 

“Alright. Let’s go,” Sam said. 

“Out the back,” the man said. Sam, Linda and the woman followed him back and through a sliding glass door to the strangest looking yard she had ever seen.

“There’s nothing,” Linda said, echoing Sam’s thoughts. There really was nothing, just dirt from fence to fence. Soft, like it had been turned recently. Sam started to feel a little ill thinking about Jack underneath the dirt. 

“Look over here,” the man said. He had walked to the center of the yard, and was digging through the loose soil with his hands. Sam jogged over to him, and saw that he was uncovering the door to what looked like an underground bunker. It was made of smooth, shiny metal, new by the looks of it. Sam looked down. 

“We’re standing on it,” she whispered. 

“Yes. it’s as big as the yard itself,” the woman said, a hint of pride in her voice. The man stood up, wiping his hands on his khakis. 

“Go ahead, open it,” he motioned at the door. Sam and Linda walked over and saw a large handle, like the one you see on an industrial refrigerator. Linda pulled for a moment before Sam reached down and helped her to heave it open.

“He’s down there,” the woman said. “There’s a ladder, can you see?” Sam looked down and all she saw was a few feet of the ladder and darkness. Not seeing she had much choice, she moved into the hole and started down. As she tried to find her footing, suddenly she heard a scream and looked up to see Linda falling in on top of her, knocking her to the bottom of the ladder with Linda landing right on top. 

“I’m really sorry about this,” the man shouted down, before closing the door and leaving them both in complete darkness. 

“Are you okay?” Linda asked shakily. 

“Yeah. Perfect,” Sam said with a sigh. 


	5. Tea Party

Sam stood up, slowly, feeling every year of punishment she had inflicted on her body. She couldn’t help but squint, hoping her eyes would adjust to the complete darkness. She jumped when she felt a hand on her arm.

“It’s me, it’s me,” Linda whispered. “Can you see anything?”

“No,” Sam whispered back, before realizing they were alone and underground and noise probably wasn’t a factor. “Let’s feel around, see if we can find a door.” She said in her full voice. They moved forward almost in unison, Sam’s hands stretched out ahead of her. Eventually they pushed through black strips of industrial rubber, hanging from the ceiling. Light spilled into what she could now see was a dirt hallway. The strips swung back and forth, and Sam looked over at Linda in the moving light. Linda shrugged, and they through the entryway. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust but when they did, she saw Jack sitting casually against the wall, arms on his knees. 

“Nice of you to drop by,” Jack said, pushing himself up and wiping his hands on his pants. 

“Interesting place,” Sam said, crossing the room to wrap her arms around him. 

“You have no idea,” Jack replied, putting his hands on her waist and turning her to the right. There, behind a wall made of glass, was a girl who looked like she was no more than 7. 

“Okay...” Sam said. “This is weird.”

“No kidding,” Jack replied. “Did Daniel have anything to say?”

“Not really, he...Hey, what happened to you?” Sam said, suddenly exasperated. 

“Nothing,” Sam tried to put on her best look of disbelief and Jack rolled his eyes. “What’s a little kidnapping and false imprisonment among neighbors, eh?” 

“What are these people into?” Sam said, mostly to herself. She took in simple bunker, and the small area behind glass that the girl occupied. It looked like any other little girl’s room, except there didn’t seem to be any way in or out. 

“I don’t know, but I guess now we know why Jonathan was so interested in them.” Jack said, itching behind his ear. “And now we’re mixed up in it, too.” 

“I don’t see any ventilation on her side, how are they getting air in there? And how do they feed her, there’s no doors or hatches...” Jack grabbed her arm as she moved towards the glass.

“Uh, Carter, I’d like to get out of here before you open the research project, if you don’t mind.” 

“Right,” Sam said a little sheepishly. She turned to look around for other exits and entrances, and to hide a smile at the use of her last name, because it really did feel like old times. She was inspecting an electrical panel when Linda cleared her throat.

“Uh, guys,” Linda said, gesturing at the glass. The girl was pulling a tea set out of a pink box and setting places, before she noticed them all looking. 

“Hi!” The girl said brightly, pausing for a moment as she poured imaginary tea into tiny plastic cups. “Do you want some?” Sam looked over at Jack who just shook his head in exasperation. 

“Hello,” Linda suddenly said, moving towards the glass. “What’s your name?” 

“Parker,” said the little girl, pushing thin black hair out of her face and carefully arranging tiny plates on the squat table. 

“Hi, Parker,” Linda said, sitting cross-legged on the floor, the toes of her shoes touching the glass. “My name is Linda. Are you having some tea?” A look came across Parker’s face, as though she were about to say ‘duh’ but it quickly turned into a bright smile. 

“Yes! Do you want some?” Parker moved forward with a plastic cup, stopping when she reached the glass. Her face fell. “You’re going to have to pretend.”

“That’s okay,” Linda said, tapping the glass gently with one finger. “I’m really really good at pretending.” Parker’s face lit up. 

“Me too!” Parker turned around and pulled a chair up to the window. She sat down cheerfully, swinging her legs and hitting her feet against the glass. Linda lifted an imaginary cup to her lips, exaggerating a pleased hum when she put it down. Parker giggled. 

“So, Parker,” Linda said, drawing a circle around the rim of her imaginary cup. “Is this where you live?” 

“Mmmmmmmmmm hmm,” Parker said, wiggling in her seat.

“Don’t you ever go outside?” Linda asked. Instead of answering, Parker stood up and ran to the back of her small room, where a row of stuffed animals lay strewn across a tiny bed. She considered for a moment before grabbing a purple bear with a gold ribbon around its neck and returning to her chair. Sam shared a look with Jack, unsure how much more information they were going to get out of the girl. Linda seemed unfazed, though. She leaned forward fogging up her side of the glass with her breath, before drawing a heart with a backwards P in it. Parker glanced up from where she had buried her face in the toy to smile. 

“Does anyone else ever come visit you?” Linda asked. Parker nodded. 

“My mom and my dad,” she said, untying the ribbon from the bear. 

“That’s good,” Linda said. “Where do they live?” Parker just pointed up. Sam stepped forward, crouching down in front of the glass. 

“Why don’t you live up there with them, Parker?” Sam asked. Linda put a hand on her arm, but the damage was done. Parker dropped the bear and ran back to her bed, laying down. 

“It’s okay,” Linda called. “We can just have some more tea.” 

“No!” Parker said, muffled into the pillows and blankets. 

“I think you made some cookies! And scones!” Linda said.  “Don’t you want to come see?” 

“NO!” Parker shouted. 

“We just want to know why you’re here, Parker,” Sam said, thinking it couldn’t possibly get any worse. 

“I don’t like you, I don’t want to talk to you,” Parker sat up, walking towards the glass with tears running down her face. “Go AWAY!” And with those last words, her eyes glowed, just like Sam had seen a thousands times before. Then she heard something else familiar.

“Oh, for crying out loud!”


	6. Back Home

_ I’m home _ . Teal’c stepped onto the metal ramp feeling a mixture of guilt and relief at the thought. Back when the Goa’uld were still in power, that guilt had been because he wasn’t doing more to save his people. Now, the guilt was because Earth and its people had become his home, and his own people were becoming more and more like strangers. He treasured their traditions and the family he had among the Jaffa, but he had always felt most at ease here, in Stargate Command. Vala Mal Doran was waiting at the bottom of the ramp. He tried to remain his usual stoic self, but her enthusiasm was infectious. He allowed himself a small smile. 

“I have something to show you, “ Vala said, widening her eyes in a clear attempt at telepathic communication. 

“Can it not wait, Vala Mal Doran?” Teal’c ask, thinking about a shower and clean clothes. He had barely broken stride and was now rounding out of the gate room and into the hall. 

“No, it can’t, it --” Vala took a few quick steps and then jumped in front of him, landing on both feet and flourishing her hands. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s a matter of life and death.” Teal’c stared at her, expressionless. 

“Whose?” 

“What?” Vala asked shortly.

“Whose life or death does that which you want to show me concern?” Vala tilted her head to the side. 

“Oh, just come on!” She said, putting her hand into Teal’c’s and pulling him all the way into Daniel Jackson’s office. He was not inside. 

“Where is Daniel Jackson?” Teal’c asked.

“Off-world,” Vala said digging through the papers and books on Daniel Jackson’s desk erratically. “But he asked me to look after something for him and I’m starting to get really worried and I’m not sure if I should do something or just wait.” She drew a dramatic breath and continued to search. 

“I do not know anything about the care of fish,” Teal’c said, walking over to the tank. “But they appear to be fine.”

“What? No, I don’t care about the fish,” Vala said, finding what she was looking for and giving a little hop of excitement. Suddenly she looked worried. “Don’t tell Daniel I said that, of course I’m taking care of the fish, this is just a  _ little _ more important.” She handed Teal’c the piece of paper. It appeared to be a photo of some writing in Goa’uld. It was garbled, as if it were encoded. The writing was purple. 

“If you are hoping I can translate this for you, I cannot,” Teal’c said, handing the paper back. 

“No, I know, it’s gobbledygook, Daniel already said, but do you know where he got it?” Vala asked. 

“Clearly I do not,” Teal’c said, running out of patience and wanting to return to his quarters. 

“Sam! And Jack,” Vala said. Teal’c looked at her with renewed interest. “And they said they were into something and then like, nothing for almost two days. Sam never called back to find out what else Daniel had found and she’s not answering any of my texts.” Teal’c had been on the receiving end of one of Vala’s more exuberant text message phases, and did not think it was unusual that Colonel Carter would be unresponsive. He did think that it was unusual she did not call Daniel Jackson back. It was unlike her to leave a problem unsolved for long. 

“I will go and ensure that Colonel Carter and General O’Neill are unharmed,” Teal’c said, turning to finally go and hit the showers. 

“I’m coming with you,” Vala said. “Just let me go get into something less commando-chic.” She didn’t wait for a reply, but skipped past him and out of the office. Knowing there was no use in arguing the point, he flipped the light switch and closed the door on his way out. 

 

Two hours later they were standing on the porch of O’Neill’s home. Teal’c tried to peer in through the windows to see if anyone was inside. 

“I think if anyone were in there, they’d have answered the door by now,” Vala’s voice came from the yard, where she was testing the windows for locks. 

“I believe you are right,” Teal’c said. Their vehicles were also gone, though one he did not recognize was in the driveway. 

“Well, good thing you brought a thief with you then, Muscles,” Vala said with a grin. She came back to the door, pulling a pin out of her hair. “Just leave it to me.” Teal’c let her struggle with the lock, which had been purchased after multiple breaches of O’Neill’s home, while reaching up to get the spare key from on top of a beam above them. He held it silently for a moment while Vala grumbled at the lock before gently moving her aside. 

“That is unnecessary, Vala Mal Doran,” he said, before unlocking the door and pushing it open. He tried not to look too smug as she slid past him and into the dark living room. Inside, nothing seemed out of place. There were three mugs of partially consumed coffee on the table, but they were undisturbed. 

“There’s nothing here,” Vala said, coming down the stairs. “Where could they have gone?” 

“I do not know,” Teal’c said. “But something is not right.” 

“No kidding, T,” a voice came from behind Teal’c. He turned to see a man who looked something like General O’Neill, but younger, and somehow more worn. “Recognize me?”

“You are the clone of O’Neill created by the Asgard Loki,” Teal’c said simply. 

“You always were the smart one,” Jonathan said. Teal’c nodded in assent. 

“Sorry, hate to interrupt,” Vala said, stepping alongside Teal’c. “But he’s the what of who made by who now?” 


	7. Unfit to Carry

A few minutes later, they were all in the SUV that Teal’c had checked out from the base. Vala kept twisting around from the passenger seat to ogle at Jonathan. 

“It really is uncanny,” she said, stretching a finger out towards him. Jonathan grabbed it before it touched his face. 

“Who is this, again?” He asked, scowling. 

“Vala Mal Doran, Jonathan Kent,” Teal’c said. “She was a member of SG-1 after your departure.” Teal’c kept his amusement about the man’s choice of surname to himself. 

“Isn’t she a little...” Jonathan waved his hand back and forth in a gesture Teal’c had seen humans make many times, but found to have no consistent meaning. 

“She has proved useful on many occasions,” Teal’c said simply. Vala grinned, pulling her lips and eyes wide to make a show of her success. As much as she had irritated him with her exuberance and unprofessionalism, she did have a true interest in protecting the galaxy. He hoped it didn’t go to her head. “Are you certain that General O’Neill and Colonel Carter would have gone to your home?”

“It’s what I would do,” Jonathan said, looking anxiously out the window. “I told Linda to stay out of it.” Teal’c watched him in the rearview mirror. It was unsettling how much he looked like O’Neill, while still being so different. He couldn’t imagine the jests O’Neill had made on missions coming from this young man. He realized that the weariness he had noticed before was not in wrinkled skin or gray hair, but in his eyes. He turned his attention back to the road, but not before seeing that Vala had noticed his reverie. He ignored her probing stare. 

“Turn here,” Jonathan interjected, leaning between the seats to point to the left. He guided Teal’c the short distance to his home. Once he got there, Teal’c did not find himself comforted. Colonel Carter’s car was sitting in the driveway, and the front door of the house was partially open. Jonathan bounded up the stairs and into the house, only to reappear a minute later, shaking his head. Teal’c was about to ask to go inside and look for evidence of their destination, but Jonathan walked right past him to the end of the driveway. Teal’c followed silently, tracking his gaze to a well-maintained home across the busy street. 

“That’s where they are,” Jonatha said. Teal’c could practically hear his teeth grinding. 

“How can you be certain?” Teal’c asked. 

“I’ve been tracking them,” Jonathan snapped. 

“Tracking them?” Teal’c asked, an eyebrow raised. “Who are they?”

“My neighbors,” Jonathan said, stepping out of the driveway and into the street. Teal’c had little choice but to follow. 

“Please alert Mitchell to our present location,” he said to Vala, before stepping into the road himself. 

“Should he send back-up? Maybe a helicopter or large guns?” Vala asked, pulling a pink phone from her jacket pocket. 

“That is not necessary, we will return shortly,” Teal’c called, now jogging across the street. Jonathan walked right up to the front door of the house and started knocking furiously. Teal’c left him there, walking around to the backyard. There was a metal hatch in the middle of the yard, and a glass door into the house. Teal’c looked between them for a moment, trying to decide, when a woman threw the door open, holding a gun on him. 

“Who are you?” She asked. Her hands were shaking. Teal’c considered for a moment, then took two large steps forward and pulled the gun easily from her hands. She dropped them to her sides, looking defeated and scared. 

“I am Teal’c,” he said, disassembling the gun and tossing the pieces on the ground. “You will tell me where Colonel Carter and General O’Neill are immediately.” She looked at him with confusion.

“Who?” At that moment, Jonathan came out of the house, a gun trained on a man who looked even more frightened than the woman. 

“You know who,” Jonathan said. “Tell us where they are!” Teal’c was not confident that he was stable enough to hold the weapon safely. 

“Jonathan Kent, please give me that gun,” Teal’c said, moving towards him. 

“No!” Jonathan shouted, turning the gun on Teal’c. “I don’t want to hurt you, but we are going to find Linda now.” Teal’c didn’t break his gaze for a moment. The man before him was emotional, unstable, and possessed the training of O’Neill. Perhaps it would be best to play along for now. He nodded in agreement, and the woman pointed towards the hatch in the yard. 

“Let’s go then,” Jonathan said, pushing her towards it. The man knelt and removed a lock with a key from his pocket, then struggled to muscle the lever open. Teal’c stepped forward and easily lifted it with one hand. Everyone stared at him for a moment, so he motioned to the opening. 

“After you,” he said. All three descended the ladder before Teal’c, with one glance around the backyard, followed. 


	8. Sleep

*6 Months Earlier*

 

Jonathan leaned against the railing on the starboard bow of the ferry, cold sharp wind slicing across his face. As he had started his journey home, which consisted of two cabs, a ferry, and a plane, he wondered the same thing he always did: whether or not it was worth all the trouble _.  _ There were other ways to make money, ones where he wouldn’t have to leave Linda alone for so long. Ones where he wouldn’t have to cross half the country and then the ocean to work. Ones where he’d get more than four hours of sleep a night. 

The truth was, those four hours was better than what he got at home. The roar of the engines, the waves, and the constant hustle of the rig usually drowned out the noise in his mind enough to let him sleep. They had moved before he left his time, Linda apparently falling in love with the small house on the busy road. He guessed she was hoping the sound of traffic would be enough to help him sleep at home. It never was. 

In the first years after he and the other Jack had parted ways in front of a high school, Jonathan had been happy to live his new life. It felt like a vacation; almost 30 years of saving the country, then the planet, then the galaxy was enough for any person. What he forgot, though, was how the new adventures would swallow the old ones, keep them from ever coming too far into the forefront of his mind. The dreams started when he was in college. Sometimes they would follow him into the day. The sunlight would hit the eyes of students walking past in just the wrong way, and he’d have to duck into the library to keep from seeing Goa’uld everywhere. 

Later, when he married Linda, he felt that nervousness calm for awhile. The joy of finding her, of starting their life together, had been enough of a distraction. Too quickly the dreams started again, and he was back to seeing threats everywhere, threats he knew couldn’t be real. Unable to get help on his own and unwilling to risk permanent containment by the Air Force, he did the only thing he knew how to do: fell back on his military training. He soothed his paranoia by giving in to it. He kept a log on the neighbors, assessed the grocery store tactically, took an extra half an hour driving home to make sure he wasn’t being tailed. 

So he was surprised, when he paid the cab driver outside his home, to see a cement truck back into the driveway of the house across the street. He had been keeping tabs on them before he left but never truly suspected them of anything. It was more an exercise than anything else. Linda had run out to greet him, and he kissed her before turning back to look across the road. 

“Oh, they are doing all this work,” Linda said, pulling him towards the house.

“What kind?” Jonathan asked, following her. 

“I don’t know. I think it’s gonna be a pool, I saw a digger thing. Still haven’t met them though, I guess they are busy a lot.”

“A pool? In Colorado?” 

“Babe.” It wasn’t a plea or a question, it was a command. He shook his head a little bit and painted a smile on.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling the top of her head to his lips. “Let’s go inside.”

 

Over the next weeks Jonathan made meticulous notes on everything the neighbors did, and it only made him more suspicious. Construction equipment would be brought in almost every day, but he couldn’t find any record of the companies. The workers all wore black, baseball caps pulled low over their eyes. A disproportionate amount of work was being done at night. Strangely, the owners never seemed to leave at all. Their car remained in exactly the same spot from the day he arrived to the day he left. 

“Do you have to go back so soon? It’s only been three weeks,” Linda murmured, half into the her pillow on the morning he was going. Jonathan didn’t say anything right away. It was early, still dark outside. 

“I’ll take the work when I can get it,” he said. “Might not be any this summer.” Linda rolled over onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Jonathan couldn’t tell if she was crying, but he turned away from her and looked out the window anyway. Trucks were pulling out of the driveway of the mysterious neighbors, done with for the night. 

“God, will they ever be done with that,” Linda had gotten up, and put her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his back. As the last truck disappeared from view, he considered telling her about his suspicions, warning her about the neighbors. He turned around in her arms and looked down at her, the only person he ever really trusted. “I don’t care that you have to go,” she said. “Just as long as you come home.” Jonathan buried his face in her shoulder, and held on to her tighter than he should have. She was real. She was here. Nothing else was certain. Not even his own mind. 

 

*Now*

 

Jonathan tried to be smug about being right, but couldn’t get past angry and scared. They were following Agnes and Blake through a dark hallway and he still had his gun trained on their back. Suddenly, he felt the gun being pulled from his hands and over his head. He turned furiously to see Teal’c. 

“I am sorry Jonathan Kent, but I don’t believe it will be necessary to be armed,” Teal’c said. Jonathan squinted at him. Of course Teal’c didn’t know what they were walking into or whether they should be armed. He didn’t trust him. Fair enough. 

“Uh, are you guys coming?” Agnes said. Teal’c motioned forward and they walked through a rubber curtain into a brightly lit room. Linda was in his arms almost immediately, sobbing into his chest. He murmured reassurances while staring at the bizarre room. 

“Well, good,” said a voice as familiar to him as his own. “Now we can figure out what the heck is going on here.” 


End file.
